Therapy
by sinfullysarcastic
Summary: 'Arrogant boy, love yourself so no one has to. They're better off without you.' Eddie's sent to Anubis House to fix himself. He's not broken though, and he doesn't need the so called therapy. Based on 'Therapy' by All Time Low. Eddie-centric. Songfic.


**DISCLAIMER: I don't own House of Anubis or ****_Therapy _****by All Time Low.**

**I am sorry. This sounded so much better in my head. I suggest listening to the song.**

_my ship went down in a sea of sound..._

Eddie wasn't exactly sure when he sunk- he remembers countless fights and constant arguments and frequent expulsions. The only thing he doesn't remember is when it all started- his father had been gone for the greater part of his life, but it was as if once he turned fourteen, it finally sunk in. Eric Sweet was _gone_. Eric Sweet didn't love him. Eric Sweet didn't think he was good enough to stay for.

Looking back, Eddie felt like changing so much. He wished he hadn't thrown those punches or screamed his arguments. He wished he could have been the good boy his mother had always wanted.

He used to take everything indifferently- maybe if he hid his true feelings, life would be easier. But remaining indifferent and uncaring caused every childhood friend to rip away from him until he stood alone. Maybe he was popular because he beat people up in fits of rage, but he had never felt more alone than the times he was surrounded by the people he had earlier considered buddies.

He could've bettered himself, he would've bettered himself, he _should've _bettered himself. He should've stayed uncaring and cool, should've kept calm, because after several acts of violence, his mom was more than ready to send him away._  
_

"It's therapy, this new school," she had said. "It'll be good for you, Eddie. You'll get to see your father, you'll make new friends." And after the initial argument, Eddie softened. Maybe a new school would be good for him- people he could make a new impression on, a reinvention.

But now he's standing here in the airport, and the people are unfamiliar to him. They're all British and he feels like he stands out even without opening his mouth- not that he could; right now, he feels more constricted than ever. Eddie scowls- he doesn't _need _this; he's fine the way he is. Screw so called therapy, he wants to be at home. It might've had bad memories but at least it was well known. Eddie was perfectly fine- he doesn't need to be going to a new school or meeting his dad because he was fine functioning without him for years.

But everyone else- they all think he's crazy. They think he needs help, they think he's a little boy who needs pity because a family member left, they think he's scarred by a person who wasn't even there for the majority of his life.

He taps his foot impatiently as he waits for his luggage, and smiles at a passerby. He doesn't need to bring their day down because of what he's feeling. Sure, he's feeling unwanted and simply hated, but nobody can really know that, can they? They'll suggest some sort of therapy, just as his mother did.

Whatever. Eddie doesn't need anyone else to love him, not at all. He can be his own lover, he can love everything about himself that his parents never cared to. He can show everyone that he doesn't need them- not like they ever wanted him around in the first place. All he ever did was wreck everything, all he was expected to do was start a fight and live up to his bad boy stereotype. Nobody would really miss him if he detached himself from them. He wouldn't call his mother anymore or even attempt to talk to his father. Maybe they should know how it feels to be rejected.

And that's when he makes his final decision, as he rolls his suitcase to the exit. He wouldn't try to get close to anybody, wouldn't try to be anything but the arrogant two dimensional guy everyone wanted him to be. This supposed 'therapy' would be over soon enough- he'd get kicked out and go back home as usual.

* * *

"But now? Now…there's stuff to stay for," Eddie murmurs, tapping his foot and looking into his father's eyes. He thinks of everyone he's met here, everyone he vowed he would never get close to but did anyway.

And as Eric Sweet nods, a smile stretches across his face, and he runs back home.

Home.

Anubis House.

And he finally kisses that feisty redhead he's grown to love, finally gets on the right track with his father and calls up his mother. He finally embraces the life he has, finally accepts that this is it. Finally starts loving this place, this place that was supposed to fix him and did, this therapy he was sent to.

_...you can choke on your misery_


End file.
